


Mum

by delicatelyglitterywriter



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post-Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Post-Episode: s07e05 The Angels Take Manhattan, Pre-Episode: s04e08 Silence in the Library, sorry guys i just have a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 14:46:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16243829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatelyglitterywriter/pseuds/delicatelyglitterywriter
Summary: River turns up on Amy's doorstep, alone and afraid. Amy gives River what only a mother can.





	Mum

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Spoilers, Pond's Coat, and Tea And Biscuits. Hope you guys like it :)
> 
> Also, first Doctor Who fanfic ever. Please be nice to me.

“Rory, I swear if you don’t give my scarf back right now-”

“You’ll  _ what _ ?” Rory taunts her, balancing precariously on the edge of the couch, dangling the scarf   _ just _ out of Amy’s reach. Amy scowls at him, not breaking eye contact as she reaches for a cushion. 

“Last chance, Rory. Hand it over.”

“Mmm, nah, I think I’ll-”

He cuts himself off mid-sentence with a squeal as the cushion connects with his face, sending him toppling backwards, off the couch. Amy doesn’t hesitate. She leaps over the couch, snatching the scarf from him before he can recover.

“Ha,  _ ha _ !” Amy cheers, scampering away from him as he pushes himself up. He pouts at her. Someone knocks on the door.

“No fair, Amy!” he whines as Amy skips to the front door, giggling as she goes.

“Your own fault, Rory,” she calls out gleefully. “Shouldn’t’a gone up against...River?”

Amy’s not sure what to think. There’s no reason River should be here, and there’s even less reason for her to be fighting back tears.

“River’s here?” Rory calls out from behind her. She hears him get up to join them. 

“Hi, mum,” River greets softly, clasping her hands in front of her. 

Amy’s heart sinks. River has never, ever called her ‘mum’ before. It’s always been ‘Amy’. She’s never expected River to, either. After all, River is older than her, or at least, River  _ looks _ older, and she certainly feels older. They both know it would be weird for River to call her ‘mum’. There would have to be something drastically wrong for that to happen.

Amy squares her jaw, quietly trying to pushing her panic away. Whatever’s wrong, River doesn’t need her to fall apart. Not now.

“What’s wrong?” she asks shortly. 

“Why does something have to be wrong?” River counters. Amy gives her a look.

“You’re crying,” Amy states, feeling Rory join them and place a hand on her shoulder. “Add to that, you’re not even supposed to be here, technically speaking. And you called me ‘mum’. We both know that never happens until something is very, very wrong.”

Amy’s arms are crossed over her chest now, and Rory is gently massaging her shoulder to soothe her. In front of her, River bows her head, and draws in a shaky breath. 

“I-” 

River chokes on her own tears, unable to hold them back any longer. Her shoulders shake, and Amy’s panic and stubbornness fade away instantly, replaced with a deep empathy for River.  _ Her _ River. 

“Oh, River,” she murmurs, moving forward to pull River into a tight hug. River latches on, as if Amy is her lifeline. Tears burn Amy’s own eyes and she closes them, resting her head against River’s, quietly hushing her. 

She’s about to tell Rory to join them, but before she can open her mouth, she feels Rory’s strong arms wrapped around them both. Nothing is said for a long while as the hug goes on. 

Rory is the first to speak as River begins to pull back, her sobs having subsided.

“I’ll boil the kettle.”

He disappears inside the house, and Amy’s arms fall down to River’s arms. She’s still not looking Amy in the face. 

“What’s wrong, River?” she tries again, giving River’s arms a light squeeze. River shakes her head, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m scared,” River admits in a whisper. “So, so scared. More scared than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Amy knows River’s life has been really scary, so to hear whatever’s got her scared now is enough to make the rest seem about as scary as a friendly prank feels like...well, Amy’s not entirely sure what it feels like. All she knows is that the feeling is strong. Sort of like being punched in the gut, being drowned in ice cold water, and her heart being shattered into a million pieces at the same time. She can barely breathe.

But she has to, she reminds herself. 

She has to breathe. For River

She has to breathe, for River. 

So she does. She takes a deep breath, dropping her hands into River’s hands, and holds tight. 

She remembers what it was like to be scared as a kid. She remembers the crack in her wall, and how much she craved a hug from her mum. A hug, and the reassurance it would be okay, and just to feel  _ safe _ . Safe and loved in the arms of her mum, and somehow she knew that would make everything okay. 

_ Oh _ . 

“And you just needed your mother, yeah?” 

She’d never really gotten that, at least not that she could remember. So she was going to make damn sure River got that. 

River nods, finally mustering up the strength to look back at Amy. Amy forgets how to breathe again. River looks so scared, so sad, so vulnerable. Amy’s never seen her like this. But still, she has to be strong. For River. She has to be the grown up right now. It’s what River needs.

River shivers and Amy glances up at the sky. Rain clouds are hovering ominously over the house. If they don’t get inside soon, they’ll get wet. Amy guides River into the house, never letting go of her hands.

“Come on, River. Rory makes a mean cup of tea.”

River follows her quietly into the house, kicking the door shut with her foot. By the time they make it to the lounge room, Rory’s already set out a plate of biscuits, and is bustling around the kitchen, preparing the tea. Amy pulls River down to sit next to her on the couch. 

River seems to instinctively change her position so that she’s curled up to Amy’s side, head resting on her shoulder. It’s weird. Different. Amy’s never had someone who’s not Rory snuggle up to her like this, let alone her grown-up daughter. She doesn’t quite know what to do.

So she does what feels natural. She holds River, as if she’s still just a scared little girl, wanting her mother. She wraps one arm around River, holding her close, and uses her other hand to fidget with River’s hair. It’s softer than she expected. Soft and springy. She likes it. 

They stay like that until Rory comes in with the tea. Amy eases River upright and she accepts the tea from Rory, as does River. Rory sits down on the chair adjacent to the couch. The three drink their tea in silence. Neither Amy, nor Rory try to talk to River. They know she just needs a bit of time, and she’ll talk when she’s ready. 

As they near the end of the tea and biscuits, however, Amy notices River seems to be dawdling on finishing her drink. 

“Drinking slower isn’t going to change anything,” she points out gently. “It’ll just prolong the inevitable. Talking to us.”

River nods slowly. “I know. I guess it just feels like it will.”

Rory looks like he’s going to make a smart quip, but decides against it. Amy’s grateful for that; she’s not sure a quip is what they need at the moment. She thinks Rory has decided against speaking at all, so she’s caught by surprise when he utters two words that she wishes she didn’t understand so well.

“I know.”

River offers him a watery smile, setting her cup down. Amy and Rory follow suit. River sits up straight, breathing deeply through her nose, her eyes fixed on the near-empty biscuit place. 

“I’m going to die soon.”

“ _ What _ ?” Amy and Rory exclaim in unison.

“How? Why? Does the Doctor know? Can he help? How long-”

“Amy,” Rory interrupts. “Let River talk.”

Amy takes a deep breath and leans back a bit. “Okay. Sorry.”

“It’s a long story,” River sighs, slumping back against the pillows, a huffing out a humourless laugh. Amy leans fully back beside her, waiting until River turns her head to face her.

“We’ve got all night.”

River smiles for the first time since she arrived. She looks grateful. She looks vulnerable again, but this time it’s a trust sort of vulnerable, rather than a lost and alone vulnerable.

“Thanks, mum,” she whispers. “Dad.”

Rory eases himself onto the couch on the other side of River, lifting his hand to rub her back. 

“It’s what parents are for,” Amy says with a slight smile. “So, what’s got you so scared.”

River sighs again, shifts, and begins her explanation. “It all started with Darillium. The Doctor always promised he’d take me there. Last night, he finally did.”

**Author's Note:**

> you guys have no idea how wonderful it is to write 'mum' instead of 'mom' in a fanfiction. americans.


End file.
